


I Love You

by TheQueen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:16:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueen/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: Shiro and Lance love each other a lot. They are also a little prone to jealousy.





	

Lance smiles and gently pushes the hand on his waist away for the sixth time that evening as the Prince leans closer, pretty green eyes taking a moment to sweep across his chest before looking back up to met his eyes. “I really do think you should reconsider.”

Lance grins and looks away, blush staining his cheeks. It’s been a long time since someone has looked at him like this. He spies Shiro in the corner and tries not to feel guilty. Nothing wrong with indulging in a little flirting after all. It wasn’t like Shiro could throw stones; he was just as prone to indulging in a pretty face. You’d never hear Lance complaining out loud (except to Hunk, but like… bro rules).

“As I might have mentioned your majesty,” Lance gently corrects, carefully raising his glass. “I am… taken.”

The Prince laughs and takes a step closer as Lance raises the glass to his lips, the drink resting like syrup on his tongue. “Certainly he could spare you for a night or two,” the Prince purrs.

“No,” Shiro growls, body warm as he presses close against Lance’s back, a possessive hand on the place the Prince seemed so found of. “He could not.”

“Shiro…” Lance warns.

The hand on his waist tightens. It is the only indication that Shiro heard him.

The Prince glances at Shiro in passing before his gaze returns to Lance. “I see we will have to finish our discussion at a later point,” the Prince offers, ever the diplomat.

Lance simply nods as he turns away.

.

The walk back to the castle is done in terse silence, their footsteps heavy in their armored boots. Lance does not trust himself to speak without making a scene.

Coran only shoots them a slightly amused look as they pass.

“What the hell was that?” Lance cries as he throws himself onto the bed, unbuckling the plating around his legs. “You want to start an international incident?”

“Me!” Shiro snaps, pulling his chest plating off so it lands on the floor with a heavy thud. “I’m not the one making… making fucking flirty eyes with some prince while his boyfriend is in the room.”

Lance kicks his leg armor off and starts wrestling with the arm braces before Shiro helps him. “I was not…” Shiro’s glare intensifies and Lance throws his arms up. “Oh, so what if I was indulging? It was flattering.” He lets Shiro pull off his other arm brace before helping Shiro take his off. “And I don’t see why you’re so angry about it. You do it all the time.”

Shiro flushes and then frowns. “I do not.”

Lance finishes pulling off his plating and unzips Shiro’s bodysuit from the back. “You do to! That princess of Tiltan. The duke from Azlan. That fucking… fanboy who recognized you the last time we went to Koris! So if I want to bat a few eyelashes and enjoy the fact that someone thinks I’m pretty, then I’m allowed to, when you do it all the time.”

Lance pulls his underarmor off and sits on the bed with a huff, arms crossed.

Shiro stares at him for a moment from the center of the room before pulling off the rest of their suit so they’re both wearing nothing but their boxers. “I had no idea that was upsetting you so much…”

Lance flushes and looks away. “Shiro…”

“Hey.” Shiro takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. He waits until Lance looks at him before continuing. “You should have told me. I had no idea, Lance.”

“I… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Lance admits.

“It is a big deal,” Shiro insists, “If something is bothering you I need to know.” Lance looks away again and this time Shiro uses his galra hand to turn Lance’s cheek until he’s meeting Shiro’s eyes again. “You know I love you, right?”

Lance nods, slowly.

“So I want you happy, okay? You need to talk to me about these things,” Shiro insists.

Lance hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Yeah…” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. Yeah. Next time.”

“Next time,” Shiro echoes before moving so he’s sitting closer to Lance, his human arm draped around Lance’s waist. “How about this time I make it up to you?”

Lance laughs, “You being all… possessive was pretty hot.”

“Pretty hot, huh?” Shiro grins before pushing his too-cold nose against Lance’s neck, making him laugh. “Just pretty hot.”

“You’re always pretty hot,” Lance concedes.

Together they fall back until they’re laying tangled on each other’s arms on the bed. Shiro’s leg tucked securely between Lance’s own, their hands curled together. “So about… making it up for me.”

Shiro presses their lips together. Lance moves until his arms are wrapped around Shiro’s neck, his fingers tangled in his lover’s hair. Shiro is due for a haircut. His hair is starting to go from fuzzy to fluffy. 

“Just relax,” Shiro promises when they break for a moment before Lance is moving forward. There was something unexplainably wonderful about kissing Takashi Shirogane that Lance would never be able to put into words. “Let me take care of you.”

.

You know… and admittedly Lance can only speak from personal experience here, but rarely did he relate someone doing him a favor and that someone being an awful fucking tease. He feels Shiro shift, the pressure on his ass grow near painful as Shiro spreads him open and dips lower, presses his tongue inside and Lance is keening, doing his best to muffle the sounds into his pillow as Shiro starts fucking him on his tongue. 

“None of that now.” And god, Shiro’s voice is wrecked. Low and rough and deep. And Lance’s cock is aching where it hangs.  _ Harder than diamond _ , Lance thinks hysterically as Shiro rolls him over so he’s lying on his back, pillow shoved under his hips for leverage. 

“I want to hear you.” Shiro urges him back to reality and Lance bites his lip and nods. Shiro is always like this. Slow and agonizing and demanding and wonderful and perfect and Lance can feel the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes because he can’t help it when he gets overwhelmed like this. 

His chest is heaving as he lets Shiro draw his legs around his shoulders. He reaches up and grabs at the pillow below his head and does his best not to scream. 

It’s too much. It’s too much. It’s always too much like this. When Shiro gets determined to turn his brain into mush so that he’s drawing circles around his rim before fucking into him, his tongue impossibly warm and wet and wonderful in a way a finger could never be. And Lance wants more, finds himself unconsciously rocking back onto Shiro’s tongue until Shiro has to hold him down, to keep him still.

Lance gasps, head thrown back and fingers digging into the pillow as Shiro adds a lube slicked finger along with his tongue, working him open. “Shiro. Shiro.” Lance repeats like a mantra, “Shiro. Please.”

There is a moment of stillness where both of them just breathe. Then Shiro's tongue is leaving--which no, no, that wasn’t what Lance wanted--pulling away before he replaces it with another finger. And now Shiro's face is near his, pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks and nose and eyes until he finds his way to his mouth. It’s enough to calm him, to reach up and twist his fingers into his hair as they kiss. Slow and languid compared to the quick way Shiro works him open, two fingers and then three moving roughly against his prostate. When they pull apart, Lance isn’t the only one panting but his heart feels less like a hummingbird trapped between his ribcage.   

“I love you,” Lance whispers, eyes still closed as he presses kisses into Shiro’s neck. “I love you so much. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Shiro removes his fingers and Lance takes a deep breath, wills the tension from his limbs, as Shiro kisses him again. “I love you too. I don’t want anyone but you.”

It took them a long time to get here. Six months of dancing around each other before Shiro found the courage to say something. Three weeks too long for Lance to believe him. Two months for Shiro to feel safe enough in his body - with his arm, with his scars. Only gentle coaxing and the softest words from Lance doing any good until they’d found themselves here on this bed, skin to skin. 

It had been wonderful and awkward in the way it can only be when it matters. Lance hadn’t known what to do with his hands and his limbs, half afraid he was too skinny or too lanky until Shiro had made him feel safe enough to let go of all those insecurities and fears. 

(There are moments where Lance still worries: is he good enough? Pretty enough? Funny enough? Sensitive enough? Of course there are. Being in love doesn’t fix everything. Being in love doesn’t magically make things perfect. But being with Shiro makes Lance want to love himself more, to see the person Shiro fell in love with.)

Now they need no words. As Shiro rolls the condom on, Lance rolls onto his knees, back arched as he pressed himself down onto the comforter. He laughs, wiggling his ass when Shiro playfully smacks it. When he feels the tip, he grins and tries to push back only to be kept in place by Shiro’s warm hands on his hip, his Galra prosthetic running just a little hotter than natural.

And this is the moment where Lance has learned to hate Shiro for all that he loves him. When he takes eight million years to slowly press in, moment by moment, so both of them can feel the slow burn even as Lance does his best to urge him faster,  _ goddamn it _ . Daring to go even slower or to stop until Lance has settled, nerves on fire. 

And if that feeling of relief when Shiro finally, finally bottoms out is almost worth it, Lance will go to his grave before telling Shiro. 

Lance moans, lifting himself up on his forearms so he can look back at Shiro as Shiro starts to move. A slow, careful drag brushing just against that spot that Lance knows won’t last long. He can feel it in the way Shiro adjusts his hand on his hips, can tell once Shiro leans forward to drape himself over Lance’s back.  

There is a hand along his jaw and Lance smiles, eyes slipping closed when he feels Shiro press a kiss to his cheek. “You know what,” Shiro says as he starts picking up speed, thrusts growing rougher. 

“What?” Lance gasps, biting his lip and rocking back into Shiro as they find a rhythm. His cock aches but he knows better than to try and touch himself.

“You’re mine,” Shiro promises, pressing another kiss to his cheek before pulling away to get a better angle, a better grip. 

Lance keens as the pace picks up and lets himself fall face first into the bed. The feeling of Shiro inside of him, of feeling loved and wanted. The feeling of being desired... “Yours,” Lance gasps once he catches his breath. 

“All mine. No one else can see you like this,” Shiro growls, his grip almost punishing as he fucks into Lance. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to make you cum.”

_ Yes, yes.  _ Lance moans again. He’s close, he’s so close. Lance grips at the bedsheets and can feel his tears begin to fall again. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Shiro slurs. And Lance can feel him getting closer as his thrusts get shorter and harder. “I love you so much.”

Lance feels Shiro’s hand wrap around his cock and his voice cracks as he voices his approval. “Yes, please. Shiro. Shiro, I need...  I--”

“I got you,” Shiro promises. “Come for me, Lance.”

And who is Lance to disobey a direct order? 

All it takes is three strokes for Lance to fall over the edge. Shiro not far behind. 

It takes a moment for them to gather themselves, for Shiro to get up and tie off the condom before heading to the bathroom and passing Lance a warm towel to clean off. 

“I can’t believe I let you kiss me after you ate my ass,” Lance complains as he throws the towel into the corner of the room to be thrown into the laundry later. 

Shiro laughs before pushing Lance further into the bed so neither one is laying on the wet spot. “Shut up. You were into it.”

“I mean I was but also gross,” Lance jokes, rolling over and tucking his head under Shiro’s chin as Shiro pulled him flush against his chest. 

Shiro snorts and presses a kiss to Lance’s hair. “Go the fuck to sleep, Lance.”

“Love you too, babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it!  
>  [Check out my writing blog for more of my writing!](https://thequeenwrites117.tumblr.com/)


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